


The New Rule One

by sonictrowel



Series: Long Night in the Blue House [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Banter, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 19:30:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9781919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonictrowel/pseuds/sonictrowel
Summary: River awaited a well-deserved retort about her own extra-marital (emphasis on the extra and the marriages) activities, but the Doctor was giving her one of those besotted, mooning smiles.“What?” she asked, smiling cautiously in return.“I was just thinking, we did get to share that one first.  Our wedding night.”River’s stomach dropped.  Oh no.  She forgot to bring this one up when they were in the cocoon phase.





	

**Author's Note:**

> (updated notes!) This contains oblique references to the Big Finish audio series.
> 
> This was the first in a series of scenes from Twelve and River's 24 years, but it went ahead and developed a plot all on its own a few installments in, so it really should have been done in chapters rather than as a series, but it was already too late... so I do recommend reading on in order :)
> 
> Thanks for all the love on this one!!
> 
>  

River was curled up on the sofa, tucked into _Atraxian Law and Society_ , _Vol III,_ her mind frequently wandering away from the dense pages as she listened to the clink of teaspoons and her husband grumbling to himself in the kitchen, when she had an idea that tickled her.

“Sweetie,” she called out, “alright in there?”

“Yeah, give us a mo’, dear,” the Doctor called back.

They were a few months into what she'd been calling their Domestic Period [aka 138th Honeymoon,] and it was almost criminal how much she was enjoying it.  Maybe they’d both become just mellow enough in their ‘old age’ (an entirely relative term that she had been staying sane by not attempting to quantify for either of them— herself in particular, given the circumstances,) but a bit of shared, linear mundanity seemed to be suiting them surprisingly well.

The first weeks on Darillium had been filled with the necessary, agonisingly honest discussions that came of finally being on the same page of a long marriage fractured by absence, forced secrecy and their tangled timelines.  The Doctor shared centuries of stories, most of them painful.  They opened old and new wounds and uncovered the damage to let them finally heal properly.  She was utterly touched by how candid her gruff curmudgeon of a husband was determined to be with her.  She could see it didn’t come any more easily to him in this body, but he had certainly forced himself over the past months to make it habitual.  

‘Rule 7: never run when you’re scared’ had been one they’d both been pretty rubbish at following at times.  But, both recognising this chance for what it was, they had dubbed it the New Rule One, and scrapped the old one.  And they'd made getting through all of the hard, messy, emotional work a bit gentler on their psyches by shagging each other senseless half a dozen times a day.

When they eventually emerged from the cocoon of their bedroom into life in the lingering twilight, River felt lighter, freer, and even more dizzyingly in love than she had ever thought possible.  Those tender, soppy grins the Doctor was constantly bestowing her with, so out of place under the frown lines and gruff eyebrows of his new face, tied her stomach in knots in the best way.  He puttered about in slippers and cooked her breakfast.  He professed his love to her elaborately in a hundred different ways, just in case she forgot (again.)  She called him by his real name often enough that it almost felt normal and not like a fiercely-guarded secret.  He was not nearly so different in this body as he seemed to think, but he was, appropriately, much more mature.  And it had only taken him a factor of ten of her own years to become a grownup.

They had discussed getting a house on Darillium, but it had felt wrong because to both of them, the TARDIS _was_ home.  But the TARDIS as she was, the police-box symbol of the Doctor, would always be an impetus to _run;_  to pursue the madcap, dangerous, fast-paced sort of life from which they were both happily taking an extended holiday.  Finally, in a stroke of brilliance they both maintained credit for thinking of first, River had instead had some words with the TARDIS herself, as much as such a thing was possible.  (The Doctor had always used to put on a show of being petulant and envious of her affinity with his ship, but he seemed quite proud and pleased with “his girls” being so close now.)  

With her help and blessing, River repaired the long-disused chameleon circuit, and the TARDIS reconfigured herself into a lovely little blue house with white shutters; bigger, of course, on the inside.  The front doors led into their most-used rooms, linked up like a proper house interior, complete with windows to the outside.  An inconspicuous linen cupboard led to the console desktop and the extended TARDIS corridors.  Not that they had entertained a lot of guests so far who they were concerned about stumbling upon it.  Or actually, any guests.  River was sure they would bother to make some friends eventually, but she was in no hurry to end their secluded honeymoon.

The Doctor bustled into the lounge with two steaming teacups and handed one to her, redolent with orange and jasmine and honey, before bending to give her an indulgently lingering kiss.  He didn’t even spill his own cup while doing so.  River hummed with pleasure as he pulled back and joined her on the sofa.

“That reminds me,” she smiled at him over her cup as she took a deep breath of the fragrant steam.  “I was just thinking… did I get to be your first kiss this time?  Since my mother didn’t beat me to it?”

He chuckled softly and she felt a grateful swell of contentment in her chest that they could reminisce about her parents now, and share their longing without the pain of how they’d parted after Manhattan.

“Of course.  You know I didn’t have…” he trailed off.  “Oh, fuck.”

“What?" 

He looked immensely regretful.  “Fucking Missy.” 

“What— really?”

“It was obviously _extremely_ uninvited,” he said, rubbing his forehead as if he were developing a migraine.  “I must have one of those bloody faces.”  He groaned.  “Again.”

River swung her legs down so she could lean in closer to him, placing a comforting hand on his thigh.  There wasn’t much happy reminiscing to be done about Missy.

“Sorry,” he said with a little wince.

“Oh honey, don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed gently.  “Besides," she bumped her hip against his, "I know I’m the only one who gets in your pants.”

The Doctor looked grateful to be moving on to a more pleasant topic of conversation.  “Mm, and the first and only in quite a few regenerations…” he trailed off again, squinting.  “At least I think?  Honestly, I can’t remember _everything_ Sandshoes got up to.  He just about married a Zygon.”

River chuckled.  “By he, you mean you.”

“Well, in fairness, I was there twice, er… three times— but I only remember the last one, so that particular lapse of judgement is not one I’m going to take the blame for.  And to my earlier point, I’m… eighty percent sure he didn’t shag Liz I.”

“Human or Zygon?”

“Either.  I think.”

“Your confidence is very reassuring.”

River awaited a well-deserved retort about her own extra-marital (emphasis on the extra and the marriages) activities, but the Doctor was giving her one of those besotted, mooning smiles.

“What?” she asked, smiling cautiously in return. 

“I was just thinking, we did get to share that one first.  Our wedding night.”

Her stomach dropped.   _Oh no._  She forgot to bring this one up when they were in the cocoon phase.

The Doctor was too perceptive, damn him.  His smile started to fall.  “What?  I wasn’t that rubbish, was I?”

“No!” she exclaimed hurriedly.  “It was wonderful, honey.  It was...” she sighed with genuine fond remembrance, “perfect.  Honestly.”

“But?”

She winced and took a gulp of her tea, wincing again because it was still far too hot for gulping.

“River, New Rule One…”

“It just… wasn’t…” she groaned almost silently, trying to force the words out.

The Doctor’s eyebrows shot up.  “Wasn’t the first— with me?   _How?_ You didn’t know this face and—”

“No, it _was_ … _mine…_ ” she trailed off, giving him a pained look.

He stared at her blankly for a moment before he sat back as if he'd been shoved, setting his teacup down hastily on the end table and sloshing some of it out.  “Wait.  That’s not— _what?!”_

“I’m sorry!” River whinged, setting down her own cup to put her head in her hands.  “It seemed like a good idea at the time—”

“Why don’t I remember?!”

“Because I knew you hadn’t met me yet!  Well, I mean, you had, but you didn’t remember that you had, so you couldn’t _know_ that you had—”

“Wait, wait, hold on, hold on,” he said, looking at her somewhat ominously.   _“Who was it?”_

River gaped and stuttered.  “It— well, it was—”  She huffed indignantly.  “It was _you,_ you ninny, they all are!”

“No deflecting!”

Desperately, she tried for placating.  “It’s really probably better if we don’t talk about this—”

“Oh, god, it was in my fucking Riddler phase, wasn’t it,” the Doctor moaned.

She snorted scornfully.  “Oh no, we did _not_ get on.”

He gaped at her.  “Bloody fantastic,” he deadpanned, gesticulating in mute frustration, in a manner decidedly reminiscent of his immediate predecessor.

River sighed in defeat.  It’d have to come out.  “Right before him,” she said in a small voice.

“Wha— _really?”_ He paused, absorbing.  “And you gave _Bow Tie_ a hard time about his clothes?!”

She laughed, relieved to see a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her husband's mouth.  She shrugged.  “He was sweet.”

The Doctor huffed.  “I’m always sweet.”

She raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“Him, he was— _I was—_  bloody unhinged.”

River shrugged again.  “You remember who you’re talking to, right?”

The Doctor exhaled sharply in begrudging amusement.  “It’s either that or you’ve got a thing for—” he looped his fingers around animatedly in the direction of River’s hair. 

“No, that’s _you,_ honey,” she smirked.

He opened his mouth, but apparently decided to concede that point with a reluctant smile and a “hmpf.”

“You’re not angry?” she asked hopefully.

He sighed.  “I— I’m a bit disappointed I don’t get to remember the first time I made love with my wife.”

His soft admission sliced through her, and River leaned over to pull him into her arms.  “Oh, darling, I’m so sorry.  I— I never really thought of it like that.  To me it was just, well, it was you.  And you liked me.  And I just sort of...”

The Doctor took her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing her knuckles.  “No, it’s alright.  I mean, if there were a dozen of you running round the universe, I don’t doubt I’d have a hard time keeping my hands off,” he said, flashing her a smile.  “And the whole, ‘space-time continuum, making sure we don’t break time so I get to have you’ thing,” his soft gaze met hers, “that’s pretty important.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, smiling as a flood of warmth rushed through her and rubbing his callused hand in hers.

“But couldn’t you have told me when I was young and hot and could still go back and spite-shag Mels?  I’d be arrested now!”

She snatched back her hand and shoved him while he laughed wickedly.

“Ah, well.  All the ‘second times’ we’ve had have been pretty bloody marvellous too,” the Doctor said, giving her another one of those soppy smiles.

River returned his smitten look earnestly— until she cringed again.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.  Who else?!”

 


End file.
